Where The Birds Go In Winter
by stormblossom
Summary: Three worlds collide as Leo Valdez and Magnus Chase are kidnapped by the School, memories erased. Leo is determined to find a way out with his newfound flock. Percy and Annabeth begin a dangerous quest to save her missing cousin, with Will and Nico tagging along. And what happens to Percy when he disappears without a trace, leaving Annabeth brokenhearted and even more determined?
1. What The Actual Fuck Is Going On?

**Author's Note:**

**The characters in this story are set before each of the arcs when they first appear. Here are the huge changes:**

**Magnus isn't dead. He's still homeless. BUT he has met Blitz and Hearth.**

**Leo is on the run from the foster workers and hasn't met Jason, Piper or any other demigods yet.**

**Jeb is 100% NOT a loving father to anyone. (though he is Max's biological dad)**

**The flock haven't been freed or escaped. This is an _alternate _story.**

**None of the characters or places are mine, only the story. They belong to their respective authors.**

**Enjoy!**

The Eraser let out an exalted growl as he stared through the binoculars from his hiding place in a tree, at the scrawny teenage boy. He was sitting on a park bench, next to a small suitcase, fiddling with a few pieces of metal. The boy had elfish ears, and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a small smile. Despite the boy's short stature, he was a viable candidate for the School's latest experiment.

The Eraser was very pleased with himself. Doctor Batchelder had trusted him enough to let him choose two new test subjects this month, a trust that did not come lightly. He turned his gaze left, and spotted another boy, tall and athletic-looking, with blond hair and stormy gray eyes. His clothes were scruffy, and he looked to be homeless. Perfect. He raised his comm and alerted the other Erasers hiding in the vicinity of his selected targets. The Eraser gripped the pommel of his tranquiliser gun, raised the viewfinder to his eyes and fired- once, twice.

One after the other, Leo Valdez and Magnus Chase slumped to the ground.

Then the Erasers scooped them up like they had never been there at all.

Magnus

I'm awake.

And I have no idea where I am. Or who I am. In fact, I have nothing in my mind at all. No memories or anything. But what I do know is that I'm lying on a cold tile floor, wearing an itchy cotton hospital gown.

And suddenly, there's a scrawny Latino boy slapping my face and asking me if I'm dead. "Hey! Man, you're out of it. I've been up for hours and hours, wondering if the only other lifeform I can see has kicked the bucket or not! Hey, you okay?" I sit up and groan. "No. What- Who are you? Where…?'' A spasm of nausea and pain hits me, and I double over, coughing and retching. "Whoa! Take it easy, _ese._ I don't know jackshit. Can't remember a thing." Then, he turns his head to the door at the other end of the room. It slams open.

We look up in terror at a grinning, snarling man. His arms ripple with muscles and fingers tipped with long black claws. he glares at us with contempt. His face is wolfish, with sharp yellowed teeth and wild eyes. Wiry hair spikes at a messy point on his scalp. He leers at me and the other kid, crouching down. "What runts," he laughs with a sneer. "But don't worry, little pigs. They'll make you better. Like me." Then he grabs me by the scruff of my neck in one hand, and my cellmate in the other. "Hey! Let us go-" The wolf-man digs his claws in, and the boy yelps in pain, then falls limp. I try to fight, but my body is aching and my legs drag on the floor, so I give in. And now I'm out cold.

Leo

First, I was in a strange room, with a strange kid, and no idea of who I am or what I'm doing here. Then a strange wolf dude came in and knocked me out. Now I'm lying on a freezing metal surgery table, wondering, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON?! The thickest leather humanly possible is wrapped around my wrists, ankles and neck. My thoughts are screaming. _This isn't right. You need to get out. Get out. GET OUT OF HERE._

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

I can hear shoe heels clicking on the floor. They get louder and louder, until finally, a woman's face appears above me. "Hello," she says pleasantly, like all is right in the world. "I'm Doctor Mayflower." Her face is pretty and pure, with just the barest hint of laughter lines around her eyes. Blonde hair cascades down her shoulders, glittering in the harsh fluorescent light. She smiles. "Um, hi? Can you tell me where I am? Or… _who _I am, maybe? Or, letting me out would be a good start…" I whisper, faking a grin. She laughs softly and looks at me, cocking her head to one side. "Silly boy. You're in the School. As for your name…" An insane smile spreads across her lips. " We call you _Subject Seven._"

"Oh. That's… nice. What's the Sc-" She shoves a gas mask over my mouth and nose, muting my speech. Okay, this lady is seriously demented. "You're so skinny. But-" she picks up a scalpel. "Your bones are still too heavy. And you're missing a few important things." She switches on a machine, and the mask fills with gas. "Let's get to work." I feel a stabbing pain in my stomach, but it's soon dulled by the gas, and I slip once again into the land of sleep. As I drift off, I groggily think, _Wow. This lady seriously needs therapy._

Max

I'm woken up by a dog crate slamming into the floor besides mine. _Oh no. _A boy a little older than me is curled up, unconscious, on the hard plastic. I look at the tag on his crate.

_Project 8. _

_Juvenile male._

_Avian DNA/ implanted avian organs_

_EXB. _

Experiment B. They're trying to grow wings on a teenager. Still-healing scars line his legs and arms. They must have thinned out his bones. God, the poor kid. I reach through the bars and touch his back. Already, lumps are poking through his skin where his wings will be, visible through the thin fabric of his shirt. He flinches, and his eyes flutter open. I take my hand away and he yelps in pain. "Sorry, sorry!" He sits up slowly, and cranes his head to look at me. His eyes are strikingly gray. Blond hair falls limp, framing his face, all splattered with blood and dirt. "Where are we?" He stares at me. "You… have wings? Oh. Okay. I was wondering if you could tell me who I am. I… um, forgot." He grins weakly. I gape at him. _Oh. Okay_. That was his reaction? I laugh "Uh, sorry. I don't know who you are, but-"

"Max?" Angel's awake. Rubbing her eyes, she smiles at the boy. "Hello. Do you have a name?" She pauses. "Oh, you can't remember? Max, should we give him a name?" The boy tilts his head. "How'd you know what I was thinking? That's really cool." He grins. Then his face falls, and he jerks his head back towards me. "Did you say something?" I shake my head. "Huh. Weird."

Angel turns around and taps Iggy on the shoulders. "Hey, wake up the others." He mumbles something like "i don't wanna, angel", but reaches over and taps Nudge. She sits bolt upright. "Max, what's happenin'?" Nudge yawns, her big eyes fluttering "New guy." She's wide awake at that, shaking Fang in the crate in front, kicking Gazzy on her left. The boys sit up, groaning. "Whass goin' on?" Gazzy mumbles, his fluffy hair sticking up. Then they spot the boy. "Oh! Hey," says Fang. "Welcome to Hell. What'd they do to you?" The boy stares at him. "What- What do you mean?" Iggy gestures to his wings. The boy reaches behind his back then winces in pain. "It hurts to move…"

Suddenly, the boy starts glowing. "Um, what is this?" he yelps. The gashes on his limbs seal up, fading into small cuts then pink jagged scars. Eventually, they fade from long white scratches into perfectly formed skin. The glowing stops, and he winces, doubling over. "What the hell?…" Fang breathes. "What was that?" I look at the boy.

I don't think that even before he encountered the School, he was fully human.

Poor guy.

Magnus

So. I'm in a crazy lab, with a bunch of other kids (including the boy who I was in a room with earlier), and I can't remember a single thing about my life. But I can heal myself super fast. That can't be normal.

The bird-kids have explained a lot of stuff to me and the other guy. We're at a top secret facility called the School, where scientists, dubbed "white-coats" by the flock, experiment on helpless little shits like ourselves. The bird-kids introduced themselves as Max, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gasman and Angel. I wondered why they called the little guy Gasman. It was soon clarified. Apparently, Angel can read minds. The other new guy thought a bunch of stupid stuff and she broadcasted it to all of us. We had a good laugh at that.

"Max, can we give them names?" Nudge squeals, hanging on the bars of her little dog crate. "You!" she exclaims, pointing at me. "You first." Max smiles, her hair floating over her shoulders. "How about-" Suddenly the door slams open and we freeze simultaneously. A tall female whitecoat with waist-length blond hair bends down in front of the row of dog crates. She looks at me and the other boy, grinning inanely. "Hi, Doc," the other boy snarks, leaning forward. "Is it time for my checkup?" The woman kicks the bars of the cage, and he flinches, shuddering and wincing, his scars stretching slightly. His left eye twitches uncontrollably. "Fuck you." he gasps, with a shaking breath. "Fuck you to the moon."

The other boy, Max, Angel and I are led down a sparsely decorated corridor into a room that looks like a crazy dentist's office, with three of those chairs. But the chairs are modified, with wrist restraints. A whitecoat ushers Max and Angel into a side room, and two muscular whitecoats shove us into the chairs and exit. The force of being slammed against a metal chair with tender backs makes us cry out in pain. The other boy twitches and tugs on the restraints, but he can't get up. He lies there, crying silently, shaking with pain. I want to grab him and hug him gently. But I can't. So I whisper to him, "Hey. We're in this together. It'll be okay." The woman steps in front of me, smiling. She bends down, palms flat on her thighs. "Aww. That's so sweet of you." She stands straight and picks up a huge syringe full of a greenish liquid. "But it's a _lie._"


	2. The Oracle Makes Up Words

Leo

It's been months since we first woke up in the School.

My back hurts so fucking much, I'm half-passing out from the pain. I remember the first time that insane bitch jabbed what seemed like a hundred needles into my arm. Then that other boy and I had to run for as long as we could, all doped up on whatever shit they put in us, bodies aching from the meds and the scars, until we passed out.

It's become a routine. Day after day. Injections, then calcium supplements, then more running to measure my heart rates.. Over and over again.

Eating gross dog food.

Sleeping in cramped dog crates.

X-rays to see how my new bones and organs are growing.

Shock collars that had a really bad effect on us. Especially me.

I couldn't stop jerking around and shaking, fiddling with the bars of the cage, trying to make a key out of little bits of plastic broken off the bottom. They kinda fried my brain. Or maybe I just like to make things.

That's why my new name is Twitch. Nudge gave it to me. That's kind of funny. Both of our names are… I can't remember the word. I can't remember much stuff. But it's the type of word where you _do _something. I twitch. So that's my name. I kinda like it.

"My fingers have been aching. All day and night. I feel like I should do something with them. Does that make sense?" Max stares at me. "Well, maybe, if you relax, or focus on them, something will happen? We all have weird things we can do." I look around. All the others are sleeping. I close my eyes.

But before anything happens, the other boy is awake and yelping in pain, his back arched. It takes me a moment to realise what's going on. Oh, God.

He's growing wings.

Magnus

What's happening?

What's happening?

It hurts so much.

Why does it hurt?

I can hear their voices.

They're panicking.

What's happening to me?

"Max," I call weakly. "Twitch."

Blood on the floor?

Is it my blood?

My ears are roaring.

Half-voices swirl, screaming in fear and agony.

_**boy blood wings scream noise bad noise **_

_**whitecoats blood noise boy no no scream **_

_**help wings boy noise whitecoat come blood **_

_**scream no scream blood boy bad stop noise **_

_**wings**_

I scream.

_**stop noise no scream whitecoat come whitecoat bad**_

And then

I scream again.

Max?

Twitch?

Fang?

Anyone, _please?_

_**noise bad noise whitecoats blood noise boy no no scream**_

Can anyone hear me?

I am alone in my head.

I am alone in a world of pain and blood.

Can anyone hear me?

Can anyone help me?

Anyone?

_**no scream help wings boy noise whitecoat come blood **_

Please?

Can anyone tell me

What is happening to me?

I'd come up with something funny to say, but it hurts too much.

Max

The kid is screaming now, whispering our names: _Max. Twitch?_

Two sharp points pierce his shirt. Blood stains the white fabric as the gray, matted baby feathers unstick from the skin and curl upwards. The floor of his crate pools with blood, tears and saliva.

Twitch is rubbing his back between the two tiny points where his wings are growing. "Hey! Hey, bud." The boy freezes, then roars in pain as the wings shoot out a few inches more. Blood spurts on Twitch's cheek. His eyelid jolts, but otherwise he looks unfazed. "Buddy, it's me. It's Twitch." The kid mumbles something. "Hey? What was that, bud?" He arches his back in pain, then mutters, "_What's happening to me?" _Twitch looks at me, his dark eyes welling with tears. He mouths, "_What should I tell him?" _I mouth back, my own eyes welling up, "_I don't know_."

Twitch flinches, and shakes, then shoves his other hand through the bars and rubbing the boy's hair, all matted with sweat and flecks of blood. The boy screams again, and the structure of his wings is about a quarter pushed out. The gray feathers are drying off. The boy heaves and shakes, his body rising and falling.

Time slides by. Twitch holds him as close as he can through the cage, for hours and hours, until the whitecoats come to clean the blood and mucus off them both.

He barely notices his own wings coming through.

I never imagined such a childish kid could be so mature through this nightmare.

Annabeth

"Come on, guys," I call, grinning. Capture the Flag today was particularly strange. Three new campers were claimed all at one time. One for Apollo, one for Aphrodite, and a new little sister for the Athena cabin. Percy saunters up beside me. " They _nearly _got us this time. Wow. I am _beat._ I'm gonna head down to my cabin and have a cold shower. See you at campfire, Wise Girl." he laughs. "Smell you later, Seaweed Brain."

I walk down to the campfire, wearing a fresh shirt and jeans. Already, the amphitheatre is bustling with activity. Campers mill around, chatting, singing, laughing, toasting marshmallows and acting out fights. A few satyrs are trying to play spit, but they're mostly eating the cards. The sky is orange, and a cool wind pushes back my hair. The fire is burning at its highest, golden flames flickering in the sunset. Percy races up to me, holding two marshmallows on sticks. "M'lady." He bows, offering me one. "You're an idiot."

We sit down and stick our marshmallows in the fire, talking about today's events and tomorrow's activities. Will Solace from the Apollo cabin grabs a guitar (and his reluctant boyfriend's shoulder) and leads the singalong. Chiron does a slight jig, or as best as he can with horse legs. Soon, even I am belting out how my grandma got dressed for war with glee. Suddenly, a hissing sound echoes around the campfire, and Will stops playing. The chatter and music ceases.

I search for the sound- _Rachel. _

Green tendrils of smoke unfurl from the Oracle's mouth, spilling onto the floor. Her eyes glow. And then, she speaks in an ancient voice.

_Four will go west and many return from the valley of death_

_And find wisdom's lost cousin with storm-colored feathers that creath_

_The phoenix, his flock, and allies anew, tolled by one half-blood's breath_

_That escaped before they arrive from the cold grip of science's mesh._

Rachel collapses, and Will grabs her before she can crack her head on the concrete steps. "Well," exclaims Chiron, grimacing, "It seems a quest is to be arranged." I take my trembling hands away from my mouth. I didn't even know I had put them there. I stand up. "Chiron," I say, my voice shaking. "Yes, Annabeth?" I take a deep breath.

"My cousin has been missing for a year."

Percy

_My cousin has been missing for a year. _

There's no doubt about it. Whispers ripple across the crowd. The campfire burns low and black. Annabeth's hands are shaking. I grasp one and she looks down at me, then back up at Chiron. He stares at her. "His name is Magnus." Slowly and surely, Chiron walks towards her. "If he is mentioned in the prophecy, the sole purpose of the quest…" He looks into Annabeth's eyes solemnly, his face dark.

"He may very well be a demigod. He may very well be in danger."

We enter the Big House, Chiron in the lead. Rachel follows, still groggy from the power of the Oracle. Everyone gathers around a table. Chiron sets a notebook down, the prophecy hastily scribbled. "We must analyse this prophecy. The first line reads: _Four will go west to the valley of death. _I believe this refers to Death Valley, in California." No duh. "But what about the second line?" I say, annoyed. "We know it's Annabeth's cousin. But what in Tartarus does _creath _mean?! I'm starting to think the Oracle's spirit is making up words."

Chiron shakes his head. "Over thousands of years, you pick up things. _Creath _is a Gaelic word. It means to tremble." We look at the line again. _And find wisdom's lost cousin with storm-colored feathers that creath. _"So we find…" I look at Annabeth. "What was your cousin's name again?" "Magnus. Magnus Chase." I'm so confused. "We find Magnus with… trembling feathers? Uh… and there's even more bird-related stuff. _The phoenix and his flock._ Like a flock of birds?" Chiron looks as confused as I am. "I don't know. I'm more concerned with _this _part of the line: _Tolled by one half-blood's breath. _That can't be good. And the _cold grip of science's mesh_?" I gulp. "Maybe we shouldn't overthink this, Chiron. Maybe we should just let it happen." He looks at me, then holds a hand to the bridge of his nose. "You're right, Percy. There is no stopping or altering a prophecy."

He walks out of the door and stops on the verandah. Campers are standing around outside, talking animatedly. "Attention, campers!" Chiron's voice booms to Half-Blood Hill and back. My ears ache. "A quest has been issued, though the whole prophecy is still unclear." He got some uncomfortable mutters here. "Four campers will travel to Death Valley, California, and bring back Annabeth's cousin, and possibly some new demigods. Annabeth Chase will lead this quest." He turned back to Annabeth, standing defiantly in the doorway, her stormy eyes burning with emotion. "Which three do you choose to take with you on this journey?"

Annabeth looks at me. "Percy?" I smile. "Of course." She grins softly and looks out at the crowd of campers. "Uh… Will Solace." He grins. "We'll need you when we inevitably get into a scrape." I wave at him. "Plus you have really good social skills!" That gets a laugh. We look at Chiron. "Um… who else do you think?" Annabeth says as Will walks down to his cabin to prepare. "Nico di Angelo." We pause. Chiron looks… well, grave. (haha, puns) "They call it Death Valley for a reason." he says, unsmiling. "Oh. Well." Annabeth says, looking slightly shaken. "Nico?" He looks up, unsurprised. "Sure." Then he flips the bird anddisappears in a cloud of shadow.

Annabeth

The last time I saw Magnus was when we were

six.

We played dominos by the fire.

Then I went home.

Then, a year ago, my aunt, Magnus's mom, Natalie, died in a fire.

Then I found out he was

missing.

But

I'm going to see him again.

I just hope he's okay.

**======================================================================A/N **

**Okay, so you caught my huge ship between Twitch (that's how I'm referring to Leo from now on) and Magnus. I haven't thought of a flock nickname for him yet. Please keep in mind that Will and Nico aren't dating yet, so I'm putting in THE AWAKENING OF SOLANGELO! (because I'm a hopeless romantic :3)**

**Three of the original flock are demigods in my headcanon. Have a guess at who they are in the reviews! And Fax is gross. None in this fic.(sorry not sorry!) I only used the word "phoenix" in the prophecy for TWITCH! Not adoptive incest. YUCK.**


	3. The Many Dangers Of Aeroplanes

Twitch

I'm not ready for this.

Usually, when something really bad happens, I'm cracking jokes and trying to comfort the others, make light of the situation. Right now, though, I can't think of anything funny to say.

Right now, I'm probably the one who'll need comforting.

I'm standing in front of a wall-length mirror, with my eyes closed, my curly hair dripping wet, flat against my head. My hands shake. My ears twitch. It doesn't hurt anymore, but then again, it's gonna hurt when I look at them. I don't want to look. But I have to. Just to prove to myself I can. I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

Thirteen feet wide, my new wings are spread out, emerging from my shoulder bones.

The rippling black and white flight feathers are nearly grown in. Small fluffy feathers grow on top of the bone structure and at the base of the joints.

It's so surreal, I start laughing, my eyelids twitching like they always do whenever I'm excited, or scared, or anything at all. I move the strange new appendage gingerly, up and down.

Suddenly, my fingers ache again. I had stopped trying to figure out what it was hours ago, when we were crying in pain, cramped in dog crates. Max had said, _Maybe, if you relax, or focus, something will happen. _I think for a little. If it comes naturally, then I shouldn't need to focus. I close my eyes, let my body release, and… open my eyes again.

Flickering in my cupped palm and around my fingers is a small curl of flame.

I smile. Concentrate. The fire curls up my arms. Around my neck. Legs, head, face, chest.

_Wings. _

I shout once, a big fucking shout. I empty all the air from my lungs with it. Then I stand there, panting, exhilarated.

My name is Twitch. The other guy and I haven't been here as long as the others. But we're gonna get out of this place, or die trying.

Hope I don't die.

I look at myself, wrapped in flames. Blink again, tense up, and… The fire is out. I'm standing alone in a scummy corporate bathroom. I fold my wings up small.

Wings. That's a joke.

Annabeth

We head out at first light, Nico and Percy grumbling about how early it is. Will is skipping along, oblivious to their bickering. He turns to me. "Why can't we just catch a plane to California? It would be so much quicker." I stop in my tracks and look at him. "Really? You're really wondering why we can't catch a plane with the sons of the _two biggest rivals of the Lord of the Sky?!_" Will cowers slightly. I glare at him, tapping my foot.

Percy puts a hand on my shoulder and I look into his sea-green eyes. "Calm down, Wise Girl," he says. "It's four in the morning. All of us are a little out of it." He kisses my cheek. "I know you're worried about your cousin. I _know_ what it's like. But you gotta hang on, 'kay?" I sigh. "Okay. Sorry about that, Will. That was mean of me." He smiles in that chirpy, upbeat way he has. "No biggie! I haven't been on a proper quest before, so I don't know much. I didn't know that Zeus would get upset if Percy and Nico went on an aeroplane." Percy grimaces. "I've only ever been on one flight. There was crazy turbulence the whole way." Nico follows suit. "I shudder to think what would happen if me and Percy were on the same flight."

Hours later, "I have an idea," Nico announces, matching my pace. We're walking along the side of the road to New York City, and the sun is lazy in the sky, trailing upwards like a slow brush stroke of yellow-orange. "Where does Magnus live?" I look at him, puzzled. "Boston." His face looks pale in the early light. "Maybe we can go there first, and see if anyone can give us information on what we're dealing with." I grin at his blank face. "That's actually a pretty good idea, Nico." I see the barest hint of a smile pass his lips, then flicker away. He grabs my wrist, then Percy grabs my other hand. "No, Nico! I hate doing this." He looks placidly up at me. "You want to walk to Boston?" Nico extends his other hand out to Will. "What?" His face wrinkles in confusion. I moan. "Come on, Sunshine." "Hey! Don't-" I grab Will's shoulder and Nico's face falls. He drops his hand to his side. "Here we go."

We disappear into a puff of dark powder, soon swept away by the wind.

Will

"- call me that!

I'm whirled through shadows and tossed into a Boston alley, somehow still on my feet.

I immediately puke into a Dumpster.

"What… was… that?" I gasp, wiping my mouth. Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Nico can shadow-travel. It's basically-" Said Nico collapses onto all fours. "_Shit!" _I yelp, and bend down. "Hey, hey! What's wrong? Tell me where it hurts." He shakes his head, but keeps it bent down low. "It's fine… Just… tired. It's nothing. Happens every time I take other people with me. " I'm not convinced. "No more Underworld-y stuff, teleporting or otherwise, until I say. You're obviously fatigued. Doctor's orders. Can you stand up?" He nods. "Okay." I pull out a tiny square of ambrosia, but he pushes it back. "I only need McDonalds." He cracks a grin. "That's the source of his dark powers," laughs Percy. "Shut up."

We find a Wendy's, not McDonald's, but close. We walk down the street to Boston Public Garden and find a bench near a bronze statue of a mother duck leading along a flock of eight tiny ducklings. Percy and I run for them, but Nico drops his burger into the box and shouts "NO!" We freeze. "The one in the middle, tilting up. It's got a HUGE aura of death. And not good death. Tortured souls kind of death." I look at the happy little duckling statue. "This one?" Percy reaches down for the cute bronze waterfowl. "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH IT, YOU IDIOT!" Percy goes back to the bench.

"I can't believe you took us two hundred miles. Like _that._" I say, snapping my fingers and looking at Nico excitedly. He explained to me how he took us to Boston using shadow-travel. "You're amazing!" I spread out my limbs in the air to gesticulate _how _amazing. His eyes widen, and he looks away. "Thanks." He twists a silver ring around his finger, crisp flakes of snow contrasting in his fluffy black hair. I never noticed that habit before today. Amazing what you see when you spend more time with people.

Suddenly, a rich, deep voice, like honey being drizzled on a pancake, rings out across the park. "I can't believe we lost Magnus, Hearth. We were fucking supposed to protect him! What am I going to tell-" Annabeth is on her feet, knife out. She leaps towards the sound of the voice. Kicking the speaker in the chest, knife at his throat and eyes blazing, she hisses,

"_What. Did. You. Do With. My. Cousin."_

Trapped under her foot is a very startled man wearing a dapper black wool coat. A pale, willowy boy is being held by the wrist forcefully. "Y-Your cousin?" says the man, surprised. All of a sudden, he beams. "Oh! I see the resemblance now! It's nice to meet you, even if my ensemble is being ruined in the slush." Annabeth grits her teeth. "How do you know Magnus?" The pale boy waves at me and points at his ears. "Annabeth, this boy is deaf. He needs his hands to sign." Annabeth looks at him. "Can you read lips?" He nods. "If I let go, will you promise not to attack me?" He nods again, and she releases her grip. He begins to sign rapidly. _I am H-E-A-R-T-H-S-T-O-N-E. He is B-L-I-T-Z-E-N. We are friends of M-A-G-N-U-S C-H-A-S-E. _

"What's he saying?" Annabeth asks. I translate for her, and she lets Blitzen up. "Sorry about that. I'm just on edge today," she says sheepishly, and tries to brush snow off of his coat. "You're not human, are you?" Annabeth growls suspiciously. "No. My buddy Hearth here is an elf. I am a dwarf, or _svartalf. _I'm also a demigod. Like your cousin. Who's also my cousin, kind of, on the godly side." She and Percy exchange looks. "Hello!" I say, waving at the guy. I point at Nico. "He yelled at Percy for trying to touch the ducklings." Nico and Percy look at me like _Oh my gods, why, Will? Why are you telling these people this? _" And quite right he is. If you're a half-blood or a magical creature, the wrong one can send you straight to Helheim!"

What?

Magnus

Last night was _hell _for me and Twitch.

We were ripped apart mentally and physically. It was fucking _torture._

I don't recommend growing wings.

But, hey!

"Good thing" mixing me with peregrine falcon DNA gets the whitecoats so _fucking_ excited.

I flap harder, speeding through the air. Sweat trickles down my brow. A distant whitecoat with a speed gun shouts: _Four hundred and thirty miles per hour! Unbelievable! The fastest recombinant specimen we've created yet. The feathers aren't even finished growing in!_

I can't help but frown. _Unbelievable. _Yeah.

The fact that I can fly?

It's pretty fucking _unbelievable._

I don't quite believe it yet myself.

I'm flying in circles around a large room with high ceilings as fast as I can go. The running stopped as soon as the wings came out and it turned into flying, for as fast as I can, for as long as I can. I've been flying for five hours straight around a big metal enclosure, a heart rate detector strapped to my chest. The flock are waiting their turn on the "exhaustion track" below at the entrance to the room, watching me. The whitecoat barks: _Nearly over. Come on, Subject Eight. _I do one last lap.

A buzzer sounds and I land, gasping for breath, wings aching. Nudge hugs me tight. "That was sooooo fast! You were just a blue blur going around and around!" the Gasman squeaks. "Are you okay?" Fang says, eyes wide. "You're the fastest of all of us!" I laugh. "I don't know. I'm so tired I can barely think." Max suddenly snaps her fingers, grinning. "I've got it!" The rest of the flock look at her, confused. The whitecoat calls: _Subject One, commence flight test. _As Max takes off, she grins, and yells,

"Your name! We'll call you Breeze."

Breeze?

I like that.


	4. Oh My Gods, This Is Getting Really Gay

**A/N; Sorry if this is kind of fillerish. Bet u can guess what's happening next... I'm sorry if this is overdone**

Annabeth

_Helheim? _

"Um, sorry, what? Helheim?" I stutter, looking at Blitzen uncomprehendingly. "Yes, Helheim," he says, looking as equally puzzled as I am. "But, isn't that Norse mythology?" He rolls out his hands like _go on. _"Yes, it is. But why don't you know this already? I thought you were demigods, although you certainly aren't _einherjar." _It makes sense now, the Norse terms. There's a Greek pantheon, and an Egyptian pantheon, and every hellish beast that comes with it, so why not Norse? I explain this to them, and their mouths fall open. Nico flinches. "Well, Magnus is certainly a _Norse _demigod. Hearth and I were hired to protect him." His face falls. "He was supposed to meet us here, in this park. But he never showed up," Blitzen moans.

Hearthstone, the other one,signs something, and I look to Will for translation. "He says they've been looking for him these past few months." I look at them solemnly. "Well, we now know where he is," I say, "and we're going to find him, me and these idiot boys." That gathers an indignant shout from said idiot boys. "Where is he? Can we help you find him?" Blitzen yelps, eyes wide. "Yes, you can. He's in Death Valley, California." Hearthstone looks pleased, but then jolts and looks at Blitzen worriedly, then signs at Will, while the other boys watch on in excitement. "He says since Blitzen is half-dwarf, he turns to stone in full sunlight-" but Blitzen barks "NO! Magnus has saved my ass so many times. I don't care." He's visibly shaken at the destination, but his mouth is turned down in defiance.

"We're going."

Nico

Fuck them all.

Makes sense that they would pick _me _to go on a quest to Death Valley. I mean, aside from the obvious connection, they _did _name it that for a reason. Back in the 1940's, when I was really little, news was flying around about deaths in a mining accident there. The sun is incredibly hot during the day, and temperatures drop below zero at night. Hundreds, thousands even, are buried in the desert because it would have been too hard to transport them back to the nearest cemetery. I'm the only one who could control them.

But still.

Now I have to follow around Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson, and… him… in case they end up disrupting a spirit or falling out of the sky, or even FUCKING DYING, because I'm the only one who can… who can… Shit. That's a lie. The only reason I said I would come was the destination. California. I should have told them why, but they'd get… tense. You see, a few months ago, I was looking for my sister, Bianca, in the Underworld. I found my sister.

But not the same one.

Hazel was born in New Orleans in the past, a few years after me. I discovered her in the Fields of Asphodel and convinced our father to let me give her a second chance at life. But that's not what the secret is. That secret is merely _a_ secret I've kept from them. There's another, one that could start a war, or kindle an alliance.

There's another camp for demigods.

A Roman one.

I've been going back and forth, visiting my sister and the other campers at Camp Jupiter. There, I'm known as the "Ambassador of Pluto", even though Hades, in his Greek form, is my father. It seems that the Roman gods _are_ our gods, but more warlike, harsher, more… _vicious. _My sister Hazel has power over gemstones and minerals, while I have power over the dead, the other aspect of Hades. I wonder what Bianca would have been able to do, had she lived long enough to find out. I don't blame Percy for her death anymore. I still miss her, but I try not to use that as an excuse to be rude to others. She chose to be reborn, so I can't do anything about that. I'll never see her again. So I try to take my mind off it by thinking about Will.

Will, Will, Will.

I never thought I could be into someone so… so _happy, _so sunny. But, whenever I look at him, it's like I can't think, I can't speak. And when he told me that I was amazing, it made me feel like a little kid, back before everything happened, before I had to fight monsters and wake up one day to be told that my sister was dead. He's… just… the opposite of me. Maybe that's why I can't stop thinking about him. I'd like, just once, if he'd let me, stroke his hair, just, just really softly.

Fuck. That sounds perverted.

We walk through Boston for hours, until finally we reach the _You Are Now Leaving Boston, Drive Safe! _sign. I still don't trust those guys, but Annabeth seems to, and who am I to argue with the leader of a quest? "I've calculated the time it will take us to get to Death Valley, and it will take approximately five weeks. Fortunately, we have lots of currency, and can afford a few taxi trips. But we'll be walking a lot." Annabeth pronounces, and Percy snuggles up to her, with Will skipping along beside them.

The sun is going down, like a big bright snail slipping behind the horizon. I pull my earbuds out and plug them into my iPod. A song plays through me, and I mouth along, letting the music wash over me like a wave of calm, as a boy sings about bugs and lemons, things that don't make sense at first glance, but when you think about them, and trust me, I've thought about them, it relates to you so much that you cry in your cabin at night. Like the song was written about you.

Percy spots a bright yellow car going in the same direction that we are, and sticks out a hand. All six of us pile into the taxi, Annabeth in the front. "Where to?" the driver asks with a strong Boston accent. He doesn't look like he could be a monster, so we stay. "How far west are you willing to take us? We're trying to get to San Francisco," she says, "but you probably won't take us across the country." He laughs. "I'll take you as far as Albany," he says, with a friendly grin.

"That's excellent! Thank you!"

"You kids running away?"

"No."

"Relax, I'm not gonna call the cops."

"We're not running away," I say. "We have something to do."

We sit in silence for hours, and eventually, Will slumps sideways, snoring softly on my shoulder. I feel my cheeks getting hot. _Oh gods, why me? Why did he fall asleep on me? _Percy wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I realize my face is red. "Wooh-wooh!" he whispers. "Sh-shut up!"

We arrive at Albany and I breathe in the cool night air. "I'm gonna go find us a place to sleep tonight with the measly money we have left," announces Percy. "You guys go get something to eat. I'll call Annabeth when I find one."

He walks, no, _saunters _away, whistling 'Good Life'.

Storm clouds roll overhead.

Twitch

It's what, Spring, now?

Feels hotter. Don't know how I know that, but I do. We all do. The whitecoats are getting jumpy. Since Breeze flies so fast, they want _another _teenager to mess around with. Angel's been reading minds left and right, and we've all been getting stressed about it. I told the others about the fire thing, and they got pretty excited. Breeze, Fang and Max are thinking up a plan to escape the School.

"What's it like out there?" Nudge beams, blinking up at me. "Is it nice?"

"Well, to be honest, I don't remember what anything looks like, or what most things are called. But it's gotta be better than this hellhole!" I say, shaking my head. Iggy thumps the bars of the crate. "I'm so _sick _of this place! We're getting out as soon as possible, guys, or I'm gonna go _nuts._" Gazzy laughs. "You're already nuts, Ig."

Suddenly, Angel stiffens up. "They did it," she exclaims, eyes wide. "Did what, Angel?" Iggy asks. "They perfected a faster-growing avian formula." Her expression is unreadable. The flock is stunned.

"And they got another teenager."

A quiet wave of thunder echoes outside.


	5. The Devil Really Does Wear Prada

**A/N: WOW! I am so frickin unoriginal, I don't even care anymore. This chapter is dedicated to Kinkajou19 and JokerArsene for CLICKING THE WONDROUS BUTTONS! THANK YOU FOR MAKING AN INTROVERT HAPPY!**

Annabeth

They've taken him.

Oh, gods. Why did this happen? _Why_?

Percy's been taken away from me. Again.

I can't think, can't breathe, he's gone, he's gone, he's gone.

We tried Iris messaging him, but all we got was a dark room and heavy breathing.

He's gone.

He called us from a public phone booth outside the hotel he booked us. My phone was on silent. His call went to voicemail. I'm sitting on my bed, trying not to cry, listening to it for the thousandth time.

"_Hey, Annabeth! Guess you guys are eating. Well, I've booked a room for us at this place. It's called the Latham Inn and it's on- SHIT!" _The sound of Riptide being uncapped. A snarling voice saying "_Got you, little runt!"_ Percy yelling. "_What the fuck are you? Why won't my s-" _A faint cracking noise, and Percy yelping. "_Hold still, little piggy!" "What-" _Percy's voice trails off. Another harsh voice, closer to the phone, "_Twenty-seven, the kid was on a call." _Another growl and a cracking sound. The line disconnects.

And Percy is gone.

As soon as I checked my phone, we freaked out and ran to the place he had said. A few metres outside the entrance was a destroyed public phone booth. Caught in its rubble was a scrap of orange fabric, flecked with blood. Next to it was a broken ballpoint pen.

Percy's shirt.

Percy's sword.

Oh, gods.

Percy.

Now we're in the room he booked for us, trying to make sense of it. Will is rubbing my back, trying to get me to calm down. Nico is punching the walls. The other two are sitting gravely on the bed. "I'm not going to stand for it," I announce suddenly, standing up and nearly knocking Will in the head. So we keep on going to Death Valley. My hunch is that the same people who have Magnus have him.

"I'm going to get my idiot boyfriend back.

And I have a pretty good idea of who's got him."

Max

We're woken up by an indignant shout.

An Eraser is trying his level best to haul a dog crate containing a teenage boy into the room, while being kicked and scratched by the crate's occupant. "Fuck you! Tell me where I am, you sick bastard! What did they do to me?!" A crackle of sound and light comes from the crate, and the kid yells in pain. Mayflower, that twisted woman, is standing proudly behind the Eraser, holding a remote for the shock collar around his neck. The Eraser sets down the crate, and we get a good look at the boy.

His hair is raven black, messy and windswept. He has olive skin covered with white scratches and piercing sea-green eyes, and his jaw is set in a frown. Nearly grown wings extend from his back. He's covered in blood, and the same fluid that came out when Breeze and Twitch's wings grew. The matted baby feathers are a stunning, vivid blue, tipped with black streaks. He looks at me, taking in my own wings, and his beautiful eyes are filled with tears.

"_Falco columbarius,_" Mayflower announces, her waxy red lips curling into a grin. "The merlin falcon. A stunning colour and speed. But not as stunning as the growth rate of this DNA." She reaches through the cage to stoke his feathers, and the boy snarls and bites her hand, drawing blood. "_Don't touch me,_" he growls, spitting. She grins and licks her bloody hand. "Feisty! We'll soon fix that." The Eraser passes her a plastic pitcher of water and she throws it on him. He yelps in pain as the wings shoot out about a foot more, and the scratches fade away. "How very interesting! I'll prepare _even more _DNA samples! Oh, the potential in this specimen." Mayflower gushes, smiling insanely. "Come, Sixteen!" She skips out of the room, the Eraser plodding behind. The boy stares at me.

"What a nutjob!"

"I know, right?!" I reply, shaking my head.

"How'd you do that thing with the water?" Nudge asks, eyes like saucers.

"I-I don't know. Didn't that happen to you guys?"

We all shake our heads.

"Breeze and I got here a few months ago, but the other guys have been here their whole lives," Twitch says, head juddering. "Bet you don't remember anything?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Not even my own name."

So we called him Blue.

Blue

So this is how it all went down before I met the other bird-kids.

I woke up in a dog crate, no memories, groggy from meds, wearing an ugly off-white shirt, that, frankly, didn't smell all that great. I was also covered in blood and gashes, glued together with steri-strips. Anyway, before I could make sense of what was happening, a huge wolf-thing (which I would later learn was called an Eraser) grabbed me and threw me into a shower.

At first, the water didn't touch me. It was like a millimetre-thick force field around my body, keeping me dry. But when it _did _hit my skin, the huge, painful gashes sealed up, and the pain mostly subsided. I felt the strength return to me.

But then, in a few seconds, I was doubled over in pain again. In a burst of blood and mucus, _honest-to-god WINGS_ burst out of my damn fucking shoulders. I didn't realize what was happening, because the water had been turned off, _and I was in excruciating pain because HOLY HECK._

I just grew wings from _having a shower!_

The other two took about a week for their wings to grow in, but mine are prickling with feathers already. Why me? Why, out of all the people in the world?

Days later, Mayflower returns, and I'm roughly toted away again. The Eraser, Number Sixteen, straps me onto a table. I'm about to shout again, but then he looks at me sadly. Like a little kid whose goldfish just died. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

He steps away, and Mayflower looms over me, smiling with that wet, red mouth.

Her tall black stilettos click on the floor.

"I guess the devil really does wear Prada," I say, trying not to grimace.

"Keep your tongue in your head, or I'll cut it out, Subject Nine," she says slyly, picking up a huge syringe. "And you will refer to me as _ma'am._" She wanders over and extracts a container of green fluid from a cupboard, then jabs the syringe into the lid, filling up the glass chamber completely.

"My most _sincere_ apologies, _ma'am,_" I jab back, completely insincerely.

"Can I just say-"

She inserts the needle into my wrist and I wince.

" -Thank you for gracing me with your presence." I bark.

Mayflower presses down, and the liquid drains from the chamber into my bloodstream.

I bite my lip and try not to scream.

It feels like molten metal is coursing through my veins. I look down and the blue of the vein is now an unnatural orange, barely visible through my skin

"Fuck. Why." I whisper, turning my head away. Mayflower taps her long blood-red nails against the syringe, smiling to show perfect white teeth.

"I wonder what will happen if I wet this wound?" she whispers, striding over to the sink. She fills a polystyrene cup with water and nods to the Eraser. He unbuckles the restraints and shoves me back into the crate, not meeting my eyes.

I'm carried back down the corridor, Mayflower's coat swishing as she keeps time with the Eraser's pace. "I think your fellow freaks should witness this spectacle, don't you, Subject Nine?" she breathes, her eyes shining with malice. Sixteen puts the crate down gently in its place, then grabs my arm, pulling it through the bars. I yell- the skin is sore. "Let him go!" Max yells. Gazzy and Twitch make indignant noises and bash their crate bars together. Mayflower tilts the cup, and I watch in horror as the water pours onto my pierced skin.

I can't help but scream.

"S-stop," I moan. My head swims and I close my eyes. I taste a bitter, metallic tang, and realize that there's blood in my mouth. My blood. I spit, and something sharp scrapes my tongue.

The pain is too much. My head aches.

"_Desmodus rotundus__,_" Mayflower announces.

I can't take it.

Everything is so loud.

I slump against the bars of the cage and slip into unconsciousness.

"_Is Blue okay?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_He's _obviously _not. He's been fucked up twice and-_

"_Look! He's waking up!"_

"_Blue? You there, dude?"_

That's me, right? Blue? I'm pretty sure that's me. I try to sit up. "Aaaah…"

"Blue?" Fang says loudly. It echoes through my head and I wince.

"Jesus-fuck, Fang! I'm up. Don't yell!"

"I didn't yell. Did I?" he yells again.

I can hear the others shake their heads. I can hear their hair flicking around, a big rustling sound, and I put my hands over my ears… and feel something strange.

I reach higher, and touch a point at the tops of my ears.

"What is this?!" I hear a piercing panic in my voice. "Wh-what…?"

All of a sudden, something brushes past my hands, and I feel around.

My ears have folded halfway down to the sides of my head, like a dog's.

"What the fuck?!" I yelp. This can't be happening.

"Blue…" Max says, touching my shoulder.

I look at her, and I realise my vision has blurred drastically. I struggle to focus on her. "Max, you're all fuzzy. I-I can't…"

Her face moves, and I think she's crying. I'm crying as well.

I bite my lip to try and stop, and it bleeds. I didn't even bite it that hard!

I raise another hand to my mouth and feel my teeth.

They're sharper and gently pointed, not much, but noticeable enough. "Oh…"

I clamp my mouth shut and cry. Tears drip onto my shirt. I wrap my wings around myself and curl up into a ball.

Max rubs my wing. "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid." It hurts my head, the talking.

Suddenly she gasps.

"What?! What is it?!"

She takes my hand to the bottom of the wing.

I twist around and squint to see bat-like webbing coming out from below the feathers.

I almost laugh.

But really, I wish it would all just stop.

"We're gonna get out of here," I say, turning my head towards her.

"So we need to make a plan."


End file.
